


No Way (Back)

by AkemiMiyano23



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-10-31 15:19:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10902030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkemiMiyano23/pseuds/AkemiMiyano23
Summary: No one does thing without a reason—and Adam Taurus is not an exempt of this. He's doing all those things for her own good, no matter what she thought of them. His mask are both physical and mental. "Keep your enemies closer." "If you have someone you don't want to lose, keep them at a distance." Those were his rules. And it was all going according to plan.





	1. There's No Going Back

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: You know that this is called "fan fiction" (or "fanfiction") for a reason, right? That reason being that I don't own the rights to this series. It belongs to Rooster Teeth (and the late Monty Oum). Any other referenced materials belong to their respective owners. This disclaimer apply to the entirety of this fic, to every chapter(s) (mostly to save space).
> 
> WARNING!
> 
> As I haven't watched RWBY for a long time, and I only watched several (read: less than 20 episodes), I'm going to retcon a lot of things. Expect things to not go as canon or as planned (laughs).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Changelog:
> 
> May 14th, 2017:  
> \- Started and finished. Posted to FFNet and AO3.
> 
> May 21st, 2017:  
> \- Fixed typo/missing words.

He felt a certain amount of relief, of liberation. His Semblance, something 'they' call 'Moonslice', was such a blessing sometimes, and he wasn't talking about the capability of slicing nigh everything with one attack. Granted, it took him a long while to master, and the ability require additional power—more than the amount contained in his own body, and thus forcing him to 'charge' himself by absorbing energy from enemy (or, in emergencies, friendly fire) attacks. No, while the destructive power of it is something he kind-of likes, he wasn't talking about that. Moonslice is something that he had been using to channel his emotions, particularly the more the negative ones—anger, hate, pain, etc.; when he was feeling particularly angry (or other emotion states), he'd channel it all into his strike. It drained him more, but it was _liberating_. That feeling of having the heavy, crushing weight being lifted from his shoulders was well beyond worth spending the extra energy.

It has been keeping him sane in this insane organization—for years, it was his solace.

And it makes his people believe that he's a bull Faunus. That's another plus—but it's not important.

During this particular use of his Semblance, he was channeling more of his emotions than usual. The pain, the grief, the anger—mostly at himself. The redhead knew that he was lucky that the droid provided most of the energy required for the slash. With more of his energy spared, he could steel himself of what he knew was coming since a long time ago—it was just a matter of time. A matter of _when_ , not of what or how. He knew—he was not going to break in front of her eyes.

Beyond that… Well, that's another matter he'd worry about later.

Swinging his beloved chokutō[1]—Wilt—back into its sheath—Blush as he finished his attack, he let himself enjoy the scattered petals, the by-product of his ability. Such tragic beauty—beauty produced from the death (or termination) of other beings. He remembered the first time he felt a fascination with roses—a person he had met a long time ago was the source. He was more bitter than usual that day, and saw them in passing, holding a rose in hand. The redhead would never pegged that that person was the spark that started everything; it all snowballed from there. He felt his emerald green eyes stinging with unshed tears, knowing the pain he's subjecting both of them to, and mentally punched himself.

 _You can do this—you_ _ **must**_ _,_ the horned Faunus thought to himself. _You knew this was coming._

And he truly did. His behavior toward her—it was all his machinations to prevent herself from getting close to him, carefully planned and executed with such flawlessness that no one but himself knew the truth. His mask was such a blessings for those moments—his poker face saving him when he didn't have it. Sometimes he wondered if it was such a good idea to have taken in Blake all those years ago—and bit his lower lip. He had many regrets, but training Blake to survive is not one of them.

Definitely not.

His gradually abusive behavior? Had she asked, he wouldn't have admitted it, but he had loved— _loves_ her so much that he didn't care of what she thought of him. He had never cared—even if his throbbing heart whispered otherwise. Mentally, he shook his head, telling himself that it was better for him to feel pained than for her to suffer.

He was heading for hell, and the older Faunus didn't want his precious feline to go down with him.

As the redhead turned around, jogging toward what he knew was his partner's whereabouts, he saw that his efforts had come to fruition—Blake, _beautiful Blake_ , was already on a separate car from him, her expression sad even as her sheathed Gambol Shroud was held in her hand. He knew her words before he even heard it, and he knew his reaching arm was futile (he _couldn't help it_ ) even before she swung it and disconnected their cars. Her goodbye was silent in his ears.

That day, Adam Taurus smiled a sincere, yet bitter smile, his emerald green eyes unmasked for the first time in forever, a tear rolling down his cheek as he watched the distant horizon where he last saw his now ex-partner.

"Brave the world, my darling; you're finally free. And…"

 _…_ _Forgive me._

* * *

If his subordinates thought he was stoic and scary before, he was even more terrifying now.

* * *

"—nus didn't make it out the tunnels. You still think the White Fang's gonna listen to us?"

"No, but they'll listen to me." Everyone knows it.

 _Tell me, Blake, if you see me now, will you ever forgive me? Will_ _**they** _ _ever forgive me?_

* * *

The order felt hollow in his ears, his heart screaming the opposite as what was coming out of his mouth. "Bring them to their knees!"

_Just a little bit longer, Adam… Just a little bit longer. Hang in there…_

* * *

"No… Adam?"

_Blake… Why? Why are you here? Why must you be here?_

He forced the feral grin even as his heart broke—channeling his self-hatred, his mask hiding the truth as it had done for so long. "Hello, my darling."

_Run, Blake. Please, I beg you! RUN!_

* * *

 

> _"Memories keep flooding in, showing the paths I should've taken, but now that time has run away from me—I cannot change a thing."_

("Kami to Hito to", Go Shiina/Donna Burke)

* * *

[1] Basically straight sword (Japanese-style). It's usually one-edged. Ishikawa Goemon XIII from _Lupin III_ also uses something similar (AFAIK). Goemon and Adam also shares similar sword-style: "iaido" (quick-draw; draw-slash-sheath, usually in one movement), though Adam's seems to be more modified.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right. I was crazy enough to do this even though I barely watch the series at all. I was peeved that my favorite character (he's been my favorite since the "Black" trailer) was turning out to be a tad too dark for my tastes (without actual, mentioned reason/background—Lelouch at least had one or two), and even more peeved that fics featuring a not-totally-bad Adam is really, really hard to find. I don't care if those info are canon—shipping or whatever—this pisses me off!
> 
> RT, at least give him a background or something; he's barely there, and it's already season 4. Heck, give villains a background; everyone has a reason, even if it's only "because it's fun". Not very logical/relatable, but it's a reason for doing something. (And please don't pull a Kayaba and leave it hanging...)
> 
> There, I said/ranted it. Phew.
> 
> Well, because I wrote this on a spur-of-the-moment, I don't know if I will continue or not. Here are several options:
> 
> \- Continue from "Heroes and Monsters" episode, after a certain "cut".  
> \- Explore the whole show from Adam's view (this is going to be a pain, but I'm offering anyway) up to season 3.  
> \- Explore Adam's past (this is going to flip the bird to the canon material, so yeah).  
> \- Elaborate the episode transcripts from Adam's view. (thank RWBY wiki for them, btw)  
> \- Drop this fic here.
> 
> Well, I'll be waiting for your decisions.
> 
> Cheers,  
> C. R. Takato
> 
> This fic is posted in FFNet and AO3.


	2. Coincidence...yeah right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING!!! If you're triggered (or whatever) by the final episodes of Volume 3, proceed with caution.
> 
> Changelog:
> 
> May 21st, 2017:  
> \- Finished.

Adam Taurus watched the fading figures of Blake Belladonna and Yang Xiao Long. The redhead Faunus absently unsheathed his Wilt, slashed an approaching Grimm, and re-sheathed the gleaming red blade. Even the sound of the Grimm disintegrating sounded like it came from so far away. Behind the white and red mask, his amber eyes (gradually receding to green—he could feel it) stared at where they were. The redhead was thankful that the slits were too small to let the actual glow of his eyes escape; it would have given himself away to Blake. Blake knew of his shifting eye color, the conditions for its shifts. It was one thing he— _his body_ could never lie about.

He glanced down at the dead body of a student he had just killed before his eyes landed on her beautiful form. He knew what he looked like to her—he was killing a human, probably another Huntsman-to-be.

_Ah, her heart must've broke; she never did like deaths,_ Adam mused, eyeing the cold, still form of the person. His kind-of-unexpected meeting with Blake had left him feeling sentimental, and his fingers itched to unleash a Moonslice on the body, if only because he couldn't give the person a proper burial. His lips twitched. Heh, he was already sentimental even before his eyes landed on his darling—the person was suffering, hanging between life and death, tormented by pain yet unable to die (if only just), and thus he granted him a mercy killing. _She'd think that I was killing him out of malice._ He felt a twinge from his chest.

That was odd. Adam was sure that he had long since lost his sense of heartache—no, it was not right to put it that way. Rather, he was so used to the pain that all he felt was a dull ache, not even enough to distract him in or out of combat. And it was good—it means that his survival in the field would be guaranteed. Oh, and what remained of his sanity plus conscience.

And he must survive, at all costs. If only to protect her from the dark shadows.

The bitter smirk was back. _Yep. From shadows, indeed,_ he thought. _Ah, Blake, if only you didn't lose your temper…_

He was baiting her. And if she didn't fall for it—like he thought (her Semblance basically screamed that she's prone to running away), then he would be content to just watching her run away, never planning of giving chase. Instead, she had challenged him—no, those weren't the right words. Blake had _fought back_ , even when she was terrified.

_Blake, you fool. You naïve, naïve fool._

He knew of her fear of him; the redhead had made sure it was there, after all. The horned Faunus grew a lot more violent since Cinder's first visit. As Adam left the burning building, his mind took him back to that day when Cinder first came to his camps. Even as that wretched witch left with polite words and gestures, he could feel it—the insides of his horns felt like they were vibrating violently, telling him that while at that moment she would back down, she _would_ be back. Oh, don't get him wrong—the reason he gave her (that White Fang doesn't just work for humans) was very real, especially in the books of his superior. But he knew that she would be back on the day she could force his hands—bringing with her a deal he **_couldn't_** refuse.

His instincts had never failed him, and thus he poured a lot more effort to pushing dear kitty away from him lest she'd get trampled in that wretched witch's plans. His lieutenant had noticed the change in his personality, and one day dared ask him. Of course, the question wasn't actually uttered as he had feared Adam's wrath (Adam made sure that the rumors of his temper was **legendary** ), but it was so heavily implied that Adam rolled his emerald eyes under his mask (thank Oum[1], again, for the mask) before bluntly saying that his tact could use some work, and answering that nothing was wrong. The lieutenant had dropped it—on records, the encounter simply didn't happen.

However, with his former apprentice baited into fighting back, Adam had no other choice. He tried to stay in character _and_ spare her as best as he could, but when she fired at him point blank, he knew he had to inflict some real injury. Possibly some mental trauma, too—it just wouldn't do for her to keep poking on his sadist charade. With taunting words, he resorted to stabbing her—he kind of coated the injury in his own Aura to protect her from the more grievous harm, all the while feeling numb. While he did it mainly to 'teach her to run away next time they meet', it doubled as a test—both to her, and her new friend.

It didn't go as he thought it would. Oh, don't get him wrong; one of his guesses was that the blonde girl would charge at him to try and save her friend, but he reacted on instinct when he felt the spike of murderous air and before he knew it, Wilt was already singing. He did try to withdraw most of the energy, though. Not that it did much good—actually, it did; if he went full power, he'd (at least) destroyed the girl's whole arm. Well, it's a pity that they had to settle on "above elbow", anyway.

The horrification he felt was worth seeing Blake have people she can call friends, people she can depend on, people— _humans_ , as much as he loathed to admit, she can count on to watch her back.

As Adam stepped over another rubble, trying to bury the guilt (how strange), he remembered the chill he had felt when Cinder returned—one of the many reasons he was glad for his façade. He recalled hearing the sounds of fighting, then his sharper Faunus hearing had picked up the sounds of his men crying out in pain. He could vaguely remember hearing some of their death cries. He had never felt anymore thankful than that day that Blake had already abandoned him. She was out of Cinder's reach. As someone who had a 'predator instincts', he could sense a stronger one—one a lot more dangerous than he, one that he could not beat, one he could not protect Blake from.

_Though she might not need as much protection already,_ he thought, letting his Wilt slash another pouncing Grimm. With a single movement, the creature was reduced into black particles, signifying its death. He sighed, though he did his best to keep the noise at a minimum as a precaution. It wouldn't do to let his men hear him—he had a façade to maintain, and he was going to maintain it all the way to the end.

He dimly thought that he kind-of regretting chopping off that arm already. The redhead already knew that it was Blake's clone he was decapitating, but he didn't expect the blonde to be so damn reckless.

Well, if she was just as reckless in their daily life and cause tons of unnecessary trouble, Adam would say that the arm was a good enough payback for dragging his precious charge into trouble. She should be thankful that the elder Faunus didn't demand a heavier price.

…

...Oh, who was he trying to convince, really?

* * *

One feline Faunus panted even as blood dripped from the open stomach wound. She grunted, feeling the sharp pain every time she moved. Her body protested at her, sending jolts of pain, screaming at her to stop, and to rest. Blake ignored it, her feline yellow eyes glinting with tears of pain—both physical and mental. She knew of White Fang's policy—traitors are to be killed. After spending a year in Beacon, she had thought that she had evaded their assassins. Oh, how foolish was she! How could she forgot about Adam's vengeful nature—back then, she was his only 'stopper'. Now that there was nothing holding him back, the older Faunus (he was once her mentor, for Oum's sake!) was even much crueler than she could remember. The feline Faunus felt the pang of guilt weighing down her heart as she glanced down at the unconscious blonde she was dragging along.

"It's my fault," she whispered brokenly. Her tears finally fell from her eyes, and her sight blurred. The sounds of battle started to dim around her, her focus on her new partner—another partner she might need to leave behind. No, one that she _must_ leave behind, if only to protect her. Blake gritted her teeth even as a sob escaped her. _Adam, how could you…?!_

Blake felt her knees buckling and she stumbled, frantically trying to regain her balance and avoid dropping Yang's unconscious form. She succeeded, but she was dead tired. The feline panted even as she dragged both of them into a small alley out of view. As she gently laid Yang down, she perked her cat ears, trying to hear Adam. She knew that she wasn't powerful enough to deal with him, not even when she was at her full power, and with Yang now injured—she choked down a sob, she just couldn't afford to fight against him.

There was no sound of him—there were only sounds of fighting, and sounds of Grimm.

_Good,_ Blake thought. _I better tend to Yang._ The feline Faunus then grunted, bitting her lip to keep the exclamation of pain in. _And myself, too…_

Blake patted herself, looking for the ribbon she usually used to hide her cat ears. As she unfurled the ribbon, she couldn't help but feeling even more guilt—and a hint of anger. "Adam," she whispered, "I had thought that you weren't beyond salvation, and I could bring you back." A tear splashed on the back of her hand. She turned Yang to check the stump. "But I can't save you from the monster you've become."

Blake inhaled, trying hard to keep her breathing in control. "It's okay, Blake; he's not here anymore. You still have Yang to worry about," Her lips quivered. "I mean, what are you going to tell Ruby?" _Ruby… That a-little-annoying Schnee heiress, Weiss… What am I going to tell them? Yang, my partner, I am so sorry._ With one final sob, she wiped her tears away. She couldn't afford to break down now, no matter how much she wanted to. She opened a flask of water, and was about to pour it down the ribbon to use as a makeshift bandage (the irony of it wasn't lost to her) when she noticed it.

The wound was cauterized.

Blake blinked, disbelief etched on her face. She knew of Adam's deadly Semblance, the Moonslice. Everything it touches is destroyed without a trace—bar the rose petals (but even those faded away soon enough), and Yang's arm was not an exception. But this cauterization… It was precise, smooth, only 'applied' on the affected area. The more optimistic half of Blake rejoiced, cheering that Adam was not beyond redemption, that he did it on purpose. Blake immediately squashed it down; Adam was a sadist down to the core of his horns. The only reason he let Yang live was so that he could make her suffer more for her apparent betrayal.

But the tiny optimistic corner of her mind was still cheering, jeering at her that he could just disintegrated Yang and those rose petals would make a fitting 'tribute', and a tragic one at that.

Blake blatantly ignored that half of her even as she bound her wound with her ribbon and supported Yang as the two limped away from the fighting.

* * *

Blake's memory was blurry after that. The Faunus didn't know if it was her wound, the blood loss, the mental pain inflicted by Adam—her ex-partner, or something else. Nor did she care. The next time she opened her eyes, she saw the tired forms of Ren, Nora, and some other fellow students, and a fellow Faunus—Sun. The monkey Faunus was calling to her, his face worried. Of course he would; she and Yang were such a mess, visibly injured, and tired.

As she groaned, she felt her hearing return to her, and she heard Sun's (too loud) shouts, "Blake! Are you alright? Who did this to you?"

_Who did this to you, he says,_ Blake thought. _Oh, Sun, you don't stand a chance. Not against him; you'll only get hurt._ And her mind flew back to the moment when Adam stabbed her to bait Yang into attacking him. She felt the terror creeping back as she stared into the aqua orbs of Sun. Adam's threat echoed in her ears. And then she saw a ghost of him, Wilt and Blush in hand, the red on his person glowing ominously. He grinned sadistically, mouthing, "This is your fault, darling. Their deaths is your fault!"

And Blake screamed as Adam sliced them all, their bodies turning into petals upon petals of wilting roses, right in front of her.

* * *

Sun didn't know what was wrong with Blake. He saw her carrying Yang, her only arm (it's unbelievable, what could have caused it?) slung over her shoulder. Yang's unconscious face was as pale as a sheet. Blake's own was not any different; her face was pale even though it was not as pale as Yang's, her eyes red and puffy. Sun wondered was could have caused the tough girl to cry so much, and he was afraid to ask; to be able to dismember Yang (who was both a heavy hitter and a tanker), _and_ to reduce Blake (who was mostly stoic and another tough girl herself) into a crying mess… He shuddered to think that there was someone who could do that, probably in one fell swoop, too.

Sun shivered.

He was contemplating on whether or not he should ask anyway when Blake's eyes were suddenly full of terror. Now, he dreaded to know who the culprit was. His tail tensed as Blake suddenly screamed. It didn't startle only him; he noticed how his exhausted friends, and some other people around started, too, some of them yelping, or looking around wide-eyed. Sun felt his tail stiffening as stiff as a stick, chilling his spine as he realized that Blake was hallucinating and she was looking over his shoulder. Feeling unnerved, he turned around, expecting to see some terrifying enemy.

But he only saw a tiny white dot, and it was slowly getting bigger. He tried using his Faunus vision, and saw that the white dot was Weiss Schnee, and by the frantic look on her face, Blake's scream reached her ears, too.

Sun Wukong was torn between several feelings at once, one of which is relief, and he chose to just follow that.

"What's going on?" Weiss asked as she skidded to a stop in front of him, her pale eyes burning holes into his eyes.

"I don't know," he replied, his voice tinged with worry. "She just came carrying Yang, and just screamed out of the blue." Weiss eyed him skeptically. He raised his arms, placating. "It's true!"

"It is," an exhausted Ren supported. Despite being out of breath, he continued, "He didn't do anything wrong."

Weiss humped. She opened her mouth when Blake started to sob, her scream abating. She had to strain her ears a little as her voice was barely audible to hers, and the background noise (read: sounds of Grimm and fighting and everything else) certainly didn't help. She whispered brokenly, one hand on her bandaged (was that her ribbon?) midsection, the other holding Yang's _only_ hand. Weiss was stunned and Blake's broken voice fell on her deaf ears.

_What… What could have done this to my friend?_ Weiss thought. In the past, she couldn't care less, but now that she had found friends in the academy, especially among the team, she found herself feeling both grief and anger. Grief—for she was not there when it happened, and this wasn't there to help both Blake and Yang. Anger—both at herself and the perpetrator, for causing Yang's injury (crippling to her usual fighting style— _Oum, what will Yang do now?_ ) and Blake to be reduced to this weak girl ( _just like her old self, all alone…_ ), begging for forgiveness. Weiss swallowed audibly, and sent Sun a glare.

...What? He was the nearest 'punching bag' she could find without feeling guilty.

He caught on, and shut himself up. "I'll…just help someone," he said lamely. The blonde Faunus then trotted away.

_Blonde_ … Weiss inhaled through her nose, her breathing slowly going out of her control, her emotions spiraling. She's going to make whoever did this _pay_. The heiress felt pity to her raven-haired teammate—her _friend_. But she also knew any sort of sympathy was going to be rejected, and thus had to wait.

She had other things to worry about.

Especially now that she saw that red/black speck in the distance is rapidly getting bigger—Ruby Rose, the leader of their team.

Speaking of Ruby Rose…

Weiss let out a hiss. _What am I going to tell her now?_

* * *

"Is that what you meant?"

"…"

"You assaulted the academy, poured Grimm into the city, letting countless people— _innocents_ die, and hurt, cripple—or even _killed_ my students. Caused _her_ plan to succeed, and even sided with her, caused the death of your own people and countless others. You've committed a lot of crimes." A pause. "Tell me why I should listen to you." His tone was unreadable.

"…Do whatever you want. I don't care about you humans—in fact, you should all just die." And he left.

A raised eyebrow. "...…Really?"

* * *

Ruby dashed from her friends, Weiss running alongside her. Her silvery eyes prickled, but she held herself back—she still had to drag Jaune and Pyrrha out. She will fulfill her promise to her friends, and see the sugary Nora bounce around, the silent Ren shaking his head in exasperation, Jaune looking down only for Pyrrha to cheer him up with a smile and words of encouragement. Yes, Ruby wanted to see that again. She didn't want another death to occur; there were far too much already. Other students, Roman Torchwick—oh, Great Oum, that man was **_eaten_** _right before very her eyes_.

_No more,_ she thought.

Not even a second after that thought, Weiss' Scroll rang. "Jaune…?"

Ruby's heart pounded in anticipation, and worry. She felt like kneeling in relief—finally, they could find him and Pyrrha, and no one else will die!

"What? What are you talking about?"

As Jaune's voice broke during his 'explanation', Ruby felt her heart drop into the concrete.

_Pyrrha…_

* * *

_"Wanna know why, wanna know your fantasy; hope it's not too late. Tears falling from your eyes—no, it's no fate!"  
_ —F.A.T.E. (Akihiro Namba/Takeshi Ueda)

* * *

[1] Yes, I'm making him a deity in RWBY world. He was the creator, after all… RIP, Monty Oum, and thanks for all of your hard work. (Man, I get the feeling that I somehow sound like unsympathetic)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO! Someone reviewed and it actually drove me into editing this little chapter which was sitting comfortably in my cloud drive.  
> Well, I kinda need someone to brainstorm with... And to check the canon; I may like retcon-ing things, but I try not to if I can help it.
> 
> Still waiting for Vol 5 developments. Speaking of developments, there're a LOT of character to develop actually... I'm listing some of them, but considering I can't bear to watch them, there're probably mistakes: Cinder's motivation (is she just power hungry? Why is she power hungry? How she met "that person"? And why does she turn to the WF?), "that person" motivation (c'mon, even if it's only as revenge... But why do they want revenge?), Sienna Khan's reason for leading the White Fang the way it is now (change of logo but not of name), et cetera, et cetera.
> 
> I'm kinda losing drive to write RWBY fics, but I salute to people who still write about Adam having a feel-face turn (coughtvtropescough) (Blake's presence doesn't matter to me) despite the hate the fandom has for him right now.
> 
> Cheers,  
> C.R. Takato


End file.
